- Joined
- Sep 24, 2010
- Messages
- 3,023
Finally the stories of Sindri and Brokkr shut the eyes of the children with heavy dreams, that always does the trick and now I can drink my last mug of mead in peace and silence. I was starting to think that those little monsters will never fall into sleep! And almost ran out of stories too. 
Good thing that the dwindling flames of the dying ember, dancing on the walls helped me bringing the legend to life and carry them out of reality. An open fire in the house, sure has its advantages!
Eh, I should have never agreed to stay home with the children, while everyone goes to the thing.
"You are too old to travel." - they said.
Huh! Me? Old? I could still show those loudmouths, how things are done! After all, and old man is old for a reason, as the saying goes.
Back in my days, I traveled far and wide in the land, been to places, which few even believe exists. If I haven't brought home with me many a golden reminder, also myself would question the truth in some of my tales.
Hmm... sweet memories of long forgotten deeds -a sip into the mug- I always find comfort in them, like in this knife in my hand. Its first grip perished a long time ago, but the blade, still shines like on the fist day I saw it.
Like a thousand serpents running along its edge, a thousand horsemen charged our group, under the mighty Theodosian Walls of Constantinople, just outside the Selymbria Gate. What a day that was! Many fell, but the victorious survivors brought further glory and coin to the Varangian Guard. This blade taken from a dying Seljuk is all that remains from that day -an old story to help an old man fall into sleep...
Noises on the roof? The grass and moss dulls them, just as the mead dulls my head, but I surely heard something. It's coming from the vent above the hearth. There are still fogy fumes drifting from the ever colder ember. My limbs are numb, I have drank too much mead. Maybe they were right, I am getting old! Numb limbs and delusional sounds?!
But then a sudden flash of pain slits into my chest. The shock rips my serpentine reminder from my hands, landing among the hot cinder. I open my eyes just to see a seax's bloody grip stare at me. The clumsy thief missed the hearth. A grave mistake. The gods blessed me with another lung and strength to use it. I get up fueled with rage, grab the fuming knife from the stove and hurl myself towards the coward. Unlike him, I don't miss the hearth. It is over in an instant.
I had a good life and at the end earned entrance to the great halls.
The total length of the knife is 32 cm. The blade is forged of L6 and 5160 with hundreds of layers, it is 18 cm long, 32 mm wide and 5 mm thick at the base.
The handle is smoked beech wood and copper.
The sheath is made of thick sturdy cow wide.
Hope you guys like it!
Good thing that the dwindling flames of the dying ember, dancing on the walls helped me bringing the legend to life and carry them out of reality. An open fire in the house, sure has its advantages! Eh, I should have never agreed to stay home with the children, while everyone goes to the thing.
"You are too old to travel." - they said.
Huh! Me? Old? I could still show those loudmouths, how things are done! After all, and old man is old for a reason, as the saying goes.
Back in my days, I traveled far and wide in the land, been to places, which few even believe exists. If I haven't brought home with me many a golden reminder, also myself would question the truth in some of my tales.
Hmm... sweet memories of long forgotten deeds -a sip into the mug- I always find comfort in them, like in this knife in my hand. Its first grip perished a long time ago, but the blade, still shines like on the fist day I saw it.
Like a thousand serpents running along its edge, a thousand horsemen charged our group, under the mighty Theodosian Walls of Constantinople, just outside the Selymbria Gate. What a day that was! Many fell, but the victorious survivors brought further glory and coin to the Varangian Guard. This blade taken from a dying Seljuk is all that remains from that day -an old story to help an old man fall into sleep...
Noises on the roof? The grass and moss dulls them, just as the mead dulls my head, but I surely heard something. It's coming from the vent above the hearth. There are still fogy fumes drifting from the ever colder ember. My limbs are numb, I have drank too much mead. Maybe they were right, I am getting old! Numb limbs and delusional sounds?!
But then a sudden flash of pain slits into my chest. The shock rips my serpentine reminder from my hands, landing among the hot cinder. I open my eyes just to see a seax's bloody grip stare at me. The clumsy thief missed the hearth. A grave mistake. The gods blessed me with another lung and strength to use it. I get up fueled with rage, grab the fuming knife from the stove and hurl myself towards the coward. Unlike him, I don't miss the hearth. It is over in an instant.
I had a good life and at the end earned entrance to the great halls.
The total length of the knife is 32 cm. The blade is forged of L6 and 5160 with hundreds of layers, it is 18 cm long, 32 mm wide and 5 mm thick at the base.
The handle is smoked beech wood and copper.
The sheath is made of thick sturdy cow wide.
Hope you guys like it!
